Qi An’s forehead was slick with cold sweat, his face sallow and deathly pale.  

“From that day on, I was plagued by nightmares. Sometimes I’d dream of being beheaded by an executioner in an ancient punishment ground. Other times, I’d dream of being a woman drowned in a river.”  

“Every night before bed, I felt like unseen eyes were watching me. Eventually, even during the day, I was overcome with dread.”  

At first, Qi An thought this might be the worst of it.  

But a week later, when he went to school as usual, he heard devastating news from his classmates.  

A Jun was dead.  

A car accident.  

They said his body had been crushed, his blood staining the pavement, seeping into the cracks in the ground.  

Xiao Pang and the other girl weren’t doing well either.  

Xiao Pang was visibly wasting away, his grades plummeting, his mind in a daze every day.  

Zhou Yue, the girl A Jun had liked, was also in terrible shape—she transferred to another school.  

Qi An’s lips were dry, his gaze unfocused. “Now, I hear piercing cat screams every day. And whenever I look in the mirror, I feel like there’s something inside it.”  

“My mom hired several masters to help me, but the moment they saw me, their faces turned pale. They told her to just… give up on me.”  

Qi An broke down sobbing on camera.  

Despite the sweltering heat, he was bundled in a thick down jacket.  

Lately, he had grown increasingly sensitive to the cold.  

His voice was hoarse, his throat raw. “I just want to tell everyone—when it comes to the supernatural, you don’t have to believe. But don’t be as ignorant as I was.”  

“No matter what, maintain absolute reverence. Don’t let curiosity push you too far.”  

After hearing his story, the live-stream audience was left with mixed emotions.  

[You really brought this on yourselves. Three words for you: serves you right!]

[With the way you were tempting fate, who else would die if not you?]

[Can you guys not be so vicious? They’re only seventeen—still in high school! Kids that age are naturally curious about things. They never expected things to turn out like this!]

[There’s a difference between curiosity and outright stupidity!] 

[Don’t generalize all kids that age—I wasn’t like this!]  

[So… was A Jun taken by a vengeful ghost?]

Huo Ning sighed. “Yes, but they brought this upon themselves. They made a deal with a ghost but failed to fulfill their end of the bargain.”  

“Breaking a contract means the ghost can kill them without bearing any karmic consequences.”  

It sounded unfair, but making deals with ghosts was already an underhanded way to gain things one didn’t deserve.  

To take what they wanted and then renege on their promise—ghosts weren’t powerless humans. They had their own ways of punishing those who broke their word.  

Qi An jerked his head up, staring at Huo Ning in shock and confusion.  

“A deal with a vengeful ghost?”  

Huo Ning glanced at him. “Why are you looking at me like that? He wasn’t the only one who made a deal with a ghost. You did too, didn’t you?”  

“I never—”  

Qi An wanted to deny it, but then a forgotten memory surfaced.  

There had been a time when he kept having the same dream.  

In it, an unseen figure claimed to be a deity and offered to grant him one wish—but in return, he would have to do something for them later.  

So, in the dream, he wished to score first on his exams, to win the lottery, for his parents to spend more time with him, and for the school bully who tormented him to break his leg.  

But when it came time to fulfill his end of the bargain, he simply… ignored it.  

Huo Ning took a sip of water, eyeing him. “In your case, you should’ve been taken by a vengeful ghost long ago. But you were lucky—your family’s Labrador took a hit for you while it was alive, and even after death, it stayed by your side to protect you.”  

“But now, it’s barely holding on. It can’t protect you anymore.”  

Qi An broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably on camera.  

He had always complained about the dog—how big it was, how much it ate, how it wasn’t as clever as other dogs.  

He never knew that even in death, his little pup was still trying to shield him.  

Wiping his tears, he choked out, “Host… I want to see it.”  

[Damn it, my eyes are flooding. Don’t kill me with the dog trope!]

[I’m staring at my own troublemaking dog chewing a slipper and having deep thoughts…] 

[Host, you helped Xu Wang see his mother before—can’t you help Qi’an see his dog too?]  

[Don’t guilt-trip the host! This is a completely different situation!]

“Host, please… I’m begging you. I really want to see it one more time. I’ll pay you—I’ll give you all the money I have!”

As he spoke, he frantically sent over a dozen virtual gifts—”Phoenix Coronets and Embroidered Robe”—in rapid succession.  

Huo Ning didn’t even have time to stop him.  

With a sigh, her fingers danced swiftly before the camera as she murmured an incantation under her breath. A beam of golden light shot through the screen, and in the next moment—  

A gaunt, battered black Labrador, its body covered in deep claw marks as though raked by long nails, lay weakly at Qi’an’s feet.  

“Woof…”  

The dog let out a feeble whimper, as if to say, Don’t cry, Master.

I’m sorry, Master. I can’t protect you anymore.

Qi An wept uncontrollably, his voice breaking. “You stupid dog… You were so chubby when you were alive. How did you get so skinny?”  

“I’m sorry… It’s all my fault. I got you killed!”  

He tried to hug his dumb, loyal dog, but his hands passed right through its spectral form. Collapsing to the ground, he sobbed until, in a burst of self-loathing, he slapped himself hard across the face.  

The Labrador, just like in the old days, crawled closer and sat beside him, nuzzling his leg with its head.  

Qi An wiped his tears. “Go… Go be reborn. Don’t worry about me anymore.”  

The dog simply pressed its head against his pant leg again.  

“Woof.”  

The puppy doesn’t understand things like reincarnation. The puppy just wants to protect its master.

[Host, I know Qi’an brought this on himself, but he doesn’t deserve to die, right? Can’t you save him? If his crisis isn’t resolved, the dog will never leave…] 

[The person above is acting like a saint, can you please stop morally blackmailing the host? ]

[Wahhh, fine, I’ll admit I’m a softie, but I can’t stand seeing the dog like this! Host, I know you’re amazing—I’ll send you gifts, please, just help the puppy!]

As she spoke, the viewer sent Huo Ning several more lavish “Phoenix Coronet and Embroidered Robe” gifts.  

Luxurious visual effects bloomed across the screen, and Huo Ning sighed.  

“It’s not that I don’t want to help him, but the spiritual power and merits I’ve accumulated can only let people see spirits through the screen.”  

Exorcising ghosts remotely—that was beyond her current capabilities.  

If they were in the same province or nearby, she could dispatch the ghosts residing in her house to assist.  

But Qi An was simply too far away.  

Besides, Qi’an’s current predicament was largely his own doing. While the vengeful ghosts had harmed him, the spirit world had its own rules.  

She couldn’t recklessly intervene just because she pitied a dog.  

“However… I can try negotiating with those four ghosts.”  

Thanks to the generous gifts, Huo Ning… ultimately offered a potential solution.  

[Wait, forget negotiations for a second—four ghosts?! I thought there was only one!]

[Are you dumb? They played five summoning games—how could there only be one? Wait, shouldn’t there be five?]

“Oh, Bloody Mary is a Western summoning game. He got lucky—she didn’t answer the call because she’s outside our service area.”  

“But don’t think you can recklessly play these games just because they involve non-Eastern ghosts. What if you accidentally summon nearby wandering spirits instead?”  

“And that’s the best-case scenario. If you attract a vengeful or malevolent ghost, things will spiral far beyond your control.”  

[Thanks for the warning, Host. I was planning to try Bloody Mary tonight—not anymore!]

[Try it and you’ll ‘die’!]

Huo Ning murmured an incantation, and a faint golden light shot through the screen.  

“Friendly reminder: High-intensity content ahead. Those easily frightened should exit now.”  

As her words faded, four figures materialized on the right side of the screen: a female ghost in Qing dynasty bridal attire, a headless spirit in white, and two wandering wraiths.